A reflection on confidence, mistakes, and learning to slow down
For a long time, I believed that being a good network engineer meant knowing the right answer.
Knowing the command.
Knowing the fix.
Knowing what should be done.
And in many ways, I did know those things.
But knowledge alone doesn’t always translate into trust — especially in production environments where the cost of being wrong is immediate and visible.
I learned that the hard way.
The uncomfortable gap between knowledge and outcome
The hardest part wasn’t making a mistake.
It was realizing that the mistake didn’t come from rushing or carelessness.
It came from confidence.
I recognized the situation.
I remembered something similar.
I acted from memory instead of verification.
From my perspective, I was being careful.
From the outside, it looked like recklessness.
That gap — between intent and impact — is where trust erodes.
Confidence is not the same as readiness
What I’ve started to understand is that confidence, by itself, is neutral.
Unstructured confidence can be dangerous.
Structured confidence is safe.
In networking, one line of configuration can affect dozens of systems. The CLI doesn’t care how sure you feel — it only cares what you typed.
I didn’t need more confidence.
I needed more pause.
The most dangerous moment
The most dangerous moment in production isn’t panic.
It’s comfort.
It’s the moment you think:
“I’ve seen this before.”
That thought shortcuts curiosity.
It replaces checking with remembering.
I’ve learned to treat that moment as a warning sign — not a green light.
Learning to leave things alone
One of the hardest lessons for me has been this:
Not every correct fix should be applied immediately.
Sometimes the right move is to:
- observe
- document
- communicate
- wait
That feels wrong when you care about doing good work.
But restraint is part of professionalism.
Stability matters more than cleanliness.
Redefining what “better” means
I used to think becoming a better engineer meant:
- faster diagnosis
- cleaner configs
- quicker fixes
Now I think it means:
- fewer surprises
- clearer communication
- predictable behavior under pressure
Being “boring” in production isn’t a flaw.
It’s a goal.
Closing thought
I still care deeply about doing things right.
That hasn’t changed.
What’s changing is how I act on that care.
I’m learning that growth isn’t always about adding skill — sometimes it’s about adding structure.
And that kind of growth is quieter, slower, and easier to miss — but far more durable.